


Reckonciliation

by Apikale



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Angst, Dakota Doubles, Heartbreak, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jealousy, M/M, Miscommunication, Profession of Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 22:40:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12263520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apikale/pseuds/Apikale
Summary: Post-"The Race."  Cavendish airs his grievances.  Neither he nor Dakota knows the full story.





	Reckonciliation

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I took a break from "When the World Tears Apart" to write this. Sue me.

_“Since we’re going to die anyway, I’d like to air some grievances!”_

Cavendish’s words kept playing through Dakota’s head like the pistachio jingle—easy to understand, impossible to get rid of.  Well, Cavendish had died plenty of times before.  Usually he wasn’t aware of it ahead of time, though.  And his final choice of words was not, as Dakota dreamed but didn’t dare presume, a declaration of love or at least affection, but of _grievances_.

What _grievances_ could Cavendish possibly have to air?

Sure, there was the general untidiness, the corny jokes, the stinky cheese sandwiches, but… those were nothing.  Certainly not worth wasting one’s dying breath on, right?  Especially given the debt of gratitude Cavendish owed Dakota considering…

Well, nothing.

Dakota could hardly blame Cavendish for not being grateful when he didn’t even know.

But still.

Was this a thread Dakota wanted to pull?  How on Earth had Dakota possibly wronged Cavendish?  If Cavendish had a direr _grievance_ than a few sloppy habits, would Dakota want to know what it was?

He sighed.  Of course he did.  It was _Cavendish_.

What was he going to do?

 

 

“Hey Balthy,” Dakota said as casually as he could when they returned to their apartment.  “Do you reckon we’re free tonight?”

Balthazar twisted his mouth into a sideways smile.  “I ‘reckon’ now that the pistachios are sabotaged, our mission is accomplished.”

“Do you ‘reckon’ there’s time to go out?”

“I ‘reckon’ so.  What did you have in mind?”

“‘Reckon’ it’d be nice to try out that mom-and-pop place down the street.  I ‘reckon’ they have good corndogs.”

“‘Reckon’ so.”

“‘Reckon.’”

“‘Reckon.’”

“‘Reckon.’”

So easy.  Cavendish had a whole goofy side to him Dakota rarely got to see, and bringing it out was fun.  It almost made Dakota want to put off this whole conversation.

But if he didn’t ask tonight, he’d never have the courage.

“Great,” he said.  “‘Reckon’ we should leave soon if we’re going to beat the evening rush.”

 

 

“What would you gentlemen like to drink?” a fat, pretty waitress with long hair greeted them as she handed them the menus.  It really was a charming restaurant, almost more of a diner, with retro carpeting and wait staff in blue gingham and even a jukebox.

“I ‘reckon’ water will suffice for me,” Cavendish said, suppressing a giggle.  “And for you, Vincent?”

“I ‘reckon’ I just want water too,” Dakota replied.

Oblivious to the joke, the waitress nodded and walked back to the kitchen.

“So,” Dakota began, trying to find the right words.  He needed to be direct, but not too confrontational, for this to work.  “Another day of saving the world.  Even if that day was a century and some change in the past.”

“Well, we returned just in time for the actual world-saving,” Cavendish pointed out.  “We just took a little detour through the frontier.”

“Yeah, about that detour…”  Dakota swallowed as the waitress came back with their water.

“Would you like any appetizers?” she asked.

“I ‘reckon’ not,” Cavendish answered.  Somehow it wasn’t as funny that time.

“All right… are you ready to order?”

“I ‘reckon’ I’ll have the corndog platter with green beans as my side,” Cavendish said.

“Uh, yeah, same for me,” Dakota told her.

She took their menus and was gone again.

“All right, you were saying something about the detour?” Cavendish asked.

“Oh, right,” Dakota said, as though he had really forgotten about the topic at hand.  “When we got hurled off that cliff… before entering the time stream…”

“Yes, that was quite a close one!  You could have died!”

“You said you wanted to air some grievances,” Dakota cut to the chase.  “What kinda grievances are we talking here?”

Cavendish’s cheeks turned pink.  “Oh, you know, the usual.  Hygiene and maintenance and so forth.”

“Uh-huh.  You wanted to spend your last minutes lecturing me?” Dakota asked skeptically.

“Erm, well, there might have been another item or two,” Cavendish admitted.

“Spill.”

“It was, um… the way you stole those devices from Brick and Savannah.  You never apologized for the trouble you caused.”

“All right… sorry.  Done deal.”  Dakota sipped his water.  “And what else?”

“Please don’t make me do this,” Cavendish begged.

“I’m not making you do anything.  I just know there’s more to this story.”

“Aye,” Cavendish sighed.  “That there is.”

 

 

_It was the night of the Time Travelers’ Annual Ball, and Cavendish was ready.  Ready to tell Dakota the truth.  It seemed innocuous enough—if Dakota disliked calling the night a date, then they could still just be there as partners, and have a decent time anyway._

_“Hey, how ‘bout we take a little stroll?” Dakota had suggested not long after they got to the party.  There was a lovely garden just outside, with hovering flowerbeds and ornate platypus statuary._

_Perfect.  Outside they could find some privacy, certainly.  There was room to have a candid conversation, the kind of conversation that needed to happen tonight.  Cavendish felt that the planets might just be aligning._

_Did he dare push his luck?_

_They found a secluded bench and sat down.  Cavendish picked up Dakota’s hand, bracing himself._

_“Vincent,” he said, hoping that Dakota would pick up on the use of his first name.  “We’ve… we’ve been partners, I mean, colleagues, for some time now.  We’ve gotten to know each other well.”_

_“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”_

_“I am saying that.  Right now.  And I’ve found that I… well, in a way I rather admire the person I’ve come to know.”_

_Dakota’s eyes widened behind those shades he never took off.  “Well, that’s… it’s good to know you don’t think I’m a complete idiot.”_

_“I don’t.  But that’s not even the type of admiration I meant.  What I meant was, I find you… attractive.”_

_“Attractive?  You mean like sexy?”_

_“Well, yes, but more than that.  What I’m trying to say is that agents make a go of relationships all the time, and some of them even work.  It’s not terribly professional, but dash it all, I’ve got these feelings for you.  Feelings that I’m finding harder and harder to ignore.”_

_“So you… want to go out?”_

_“So I want to have whatever you’re willing to have with me!”  There it was.  The truth just kept cascading from Cavendish’s lips.  “Vinnie, I dream of you, I yearn for you when you’re not around, I… I believe I love you.”  Yes, that felt right.  “Vinnie, I’m in love with you!”_

_Cavendish looked over to see Dakota wiping his eyes with his sleeve._

_Tears._

_And they didn’t look like the happy kind._

_“I understand if you don’t reciprocate!” he said quickly.  “You’re younger, and more attractive, and people like you, and you could have anyone if—”_

_“That’s not it!” Dakota yelped, and a couple who had been making out about fifty feet away paused to stare._

_“Then what is it?”_

_“I… I have to go,” Dakota said suddenly._

_“Now?  But we’ve only just arrived…”_

_“Yes, now,” the shorter man said ruefully.  “I really do have to go.  But… but I’ll be right back!” he promised, standing up.  “I’ll be right back and… and you can tell me this all over again, and then I’ll be ready.  I’ll be happy to hear it.  Just give me a moment.”_

_He ran back inside.  Cavendish ached to chase him down, to ask what the devil all that was about, but Dakota had asked for a moment._

_Well, the moment passed, and still there was no Dakota.  He waited longer, for what felt like an eternity, and still, nothing.  Finally, Cavendish decided to return to the ballroom._

_To that dreadful sight._

_To Dakota, dancing wildly with Savannah, not the slightest trace of a tear in his eye.  Just by body language, Cavendish could tell his partner was flirtatiously hitting on her, and while she rolled her eyes, she was evidently invigorated enough by the party’s atmosphere that she tolerated it._

_Dakota didn’t care at all about what Cavendish had felt._

_Why should he?_

_No wonder he ran away, and told Cavendish to stay behind._

_Dakota would leave Cavendish entirely if he could._

“Uh… Cavendish?  Earth to Cavendish, hello?” Dakota asked.  Cavendish still hadn’t elaborated on his vague answer, and the waitress was already there with their food.

“Oh!  Quite sorry, I was lost in my thoughts,” Cavendish said.

“Well?”  Dakota felt a knot rise in his stomach.  Whatever Cavendish was upset about, it must be really bad.

“That… that night at the ball,” Cavendish said.  “After we had our… conversation.”  He sighed.  “It just… it really hurt to see you dancing with Savannah immediately after that.”

“What conversation?”

Cavendish twirled a French fry in his fingers without eating it.  “Naturally, by now you would have forgotten.  Well suffice it to say, it was very heartfelt, I thought, and while I respect your feelings, or lack thereof, I found the whole thing rather tactless!”  There was an angry edge to his voice as he dredged up the memory, whatever it was.

“Hey hey hey now… I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, Balthy,” Dakota said quickly.  “Look, I really don’t remember what we talked about.  I’m sorry about that too.  I don’t remember much of anything that happened that night.  But… if I hurt you, I’m sorry.  If there’s any way I can make it up… let me know.”

Balthazar nodded.  “That’s… that’s good to know,” he said diplomatically.  “But I reckon the only thing that can really make it better is… time.”

Dakota reached across the table to place a hand over Balthazar’s.  “I reckon that’s fair,” he said.  “Take all the time you need.”

 

 

_Fixing the chandelier that had caused that fateful accident had been tricky, between climbing onto the ceiling and not being seen by the partygoers, but Dakota was finally finished.  He sort of wished he had tasked his past self with the repair and kept Cavendish distracted himself, but it was he who knew the details of this particular accident, and anyway, it seemed only fair that the Dakota who was about to be exiled forever be entitled to one last evening with Cavendish at his side._

_At least, that was the plan._

_He did not expect to meet his past self in the corner as he climbed down.  Or that his past self would be crying.  Sure, knowing his fate must be somewhat depressing, but none of Dakota’s other selves had ever cried upon realizing it.  It just wasn’t the sort of thing he’d cry over._

_So there must be something more._

_“Listen to what he says,” past-Dakota choked out, drawing present-Dakota into a hug.  “And… have a good time, all right?  Enjoy yourself while you can.  Do it for me.”_

_With that, he ran away, never to be seen by Dakota or Cavendish again._

_Dakota was just walking past the dance floor when he overheard a couple talking._

_“Cavendish with a boyfriend?  Get out.”_

_“I swear, I saw it with my own eyes!  He was holding his hand and everything.  Whatever they were talking about, it must’ve been intense.”_

_Cavendish.  A boyfriend.  Intense._

_No wonder past-Dakota was upset._

_Present-Dakota would probably cry too, if he had seen it himself.  Unlike death, love wasn’t really something time travel could fix.  But it wasn’t his business.  Cavendish had a right to a personal life, after all, and he hadn’t indicated that they were going to this dance as anything more than coworkers.  Dakota would simply have to take his past self’s advice and enjoy himself.  Maybe find a rebound._

_Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Savannah storming away from Brick, no doubt over yet another of their petty arguments.  Yes, a few minutes of loud music and sick moves with the second-hottest agent in the Bureau ought to cure him of that disappointment._

_“Heeeeyyy, Savannah!  Looking good!”  He waved at her as he crossed over to where she was standing.  “What say I have this dance, Savannah?”_

_Savannah looked at Dakota, then back at Brick, then back at Dakota.  She shrugged._

_“Why the hell not?”_

_Indeed, why the hell not._

The waitress came back with the check.  Cavendish reached for his wallet, but Dakota was faster on the draw.

“You got the tab last time,” he insisted.  “This time my wallet’s in the right track suit.”

“I reckon you’re getting more responsible,” Cavendish commented.

“I reckon it’s time I took your grievances into account.  Since I can’t un-steal the devices or un-dance with Savannah, I reckon this will have to do.”

“I reckon it’s a step in the right direction.”

“I reckon you’re right.”

“Reckon.”

“Reckon.”

“Reckon.”

It _did_ feel good to say.


End file.
